Anywhere
by blackberet
Summary: Songfic. Kojiro wants to run away from the Rocket Gang and take Musashi with him. Musashi, however, has other plans...


Disclaimer: Pokémon, Musashi, Kojiro, and all related characters and locations are owned by Nintendo. This is a work of fanfiction, meaning that it is both created by a fan for no purpose other than entertainment, and it is fiction, meaning that all characters and events are purely fictonal and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.  
This story is a songfic, based on the Evanescence song "Anywhere," and it kinda brings me back to my days, beginning in the fourth grade, as a Pokémon fanficcer (ehm... "Stephanie Rocket" ring any bells? -_-;;). In keeping with the more serious tone of this story, I've used the Japanese names for characters. They are as follows:   
  
Musashi (also Musa-chan) - Jessie  
Kojiro - James  
Nyase - Meowth  
the Rocket Dan - Team Rocket  
Yamato - Cassidy  
Kosaburo - Butch  
  
  
_ anywhere // beautiful eyes  
by flame mage_   
  
**********   
  
She has such beautiful eyes.  
He always thinks of those eyes first when he thinks of her. Those blue eyes, and the way they make him feel as if she's looking into his soul. He has to pause outside her door, one hand on the knob before he turns it, and steady himself, because he knows in a moment those eyes will be on him. No matter how many years pass, how many times he sees those eyes, they always have the same effect on him.  
She's reading a romance novel when he walks in, the kind of cheap paperback one with a picture of a shirtless man and a swooning woman on the cover. She's not wearing her long black gloves, which is kind of a shock for him-he has to wonder how many times, in all their years together, he's actually seen her hands. They-the gloves, not the hands-are sitting on the bedside table next to her. Her nails are half-painted, the little bottle of crimson sitting open on the same table. In the half-light, it could be blood.  
He clears his throat uncertainly several times. She doesn't look up, of course; he didn't expect her to. She never does.  
As he watches, she reaches out with one scarlet-taloned finger and flicks the radio on. A new song is just starting. She turns the volume up and lets the sound of drums and guitars crescendo and fill her tiny apartment.  
Like everything else in the room, the radio is ancient. There are mothholes in the musty blankets thrown apathetically at the foot of her bed. The single naked bulb illuminating the room keeps flickering. It doesn't look like the kind of room she should live in. Musashi has always been the kind of woman who belonged in a world of silk and velvet, not cheap coarse cotton with a low thread-count.  
He feels a flash of anger, and it almost makes him laugh out loud. Anger? From the sweet, spineless Kojiro? Never. Petty, overstated annoyance, melodrama, that's his forte. His face breaks into a grimace as he takes it all in. It shouldn't be this way, he wants to snap. We used to be on top. What happened, Musashi? What happened to us?  
"Yes, Kojiro?" she asks after a minute, jerking him out of his reverie.  
He clears his throat several more times, running a finger under the collar of his turtleneck. He's feeling suddenly flustered, the way he always does when she turns that sapphire gaze on him. She's so beautiful, he thinks suddenly.  
He's in love with her and he knows it, and he knows what he has to do.   
  
_ Dear my love, haven't you wanted to be with me?  
And dear my love, haven't you longed to be free?  
I can't keep pretending that I don't even know you  
And at sweet night, you are my own_   
  
"M-musa-chan," he begins shakily, then kicks himself. Why does he always have to sound like an idiot around her? "Yes?" she asks languidly, slipping a bookmark casually into her novel and resting one cheek the shade of peach silk in her hand. She looks catlike, a syrinx, like she already knows what he's going to say and is enjoying the knowledge.  
"There's...I..." She's drumming her nails on her cheek. Involuntarily, his eyes are tracking each little flash of red against that skin. The words won't come out. He closes his eyes so he can't see her and forces himself to say it. "You know...how the Boss demoted us again?"  
"Yeah," she laughs ruefully. "That's what we're doing here." She gestures to the dingy little apartment and everything in it.  
And it is what they're doing there, and he knows it. Too many botched plans, too many screw-ups, too many miserable failures. Nyase was long gone; he has no idea what had happened to the obnoxious little cat. And now that he's thinking about it, he's starting to miss his old apartment, with the big fluffy bed and the sliding glass doors. He really misses the sliding glass doors that were so shiny he could see himself in them. And--he realizes he's stalling and mentally kicks himself again. Keep going, he tells himself. That's all you can do.  
"I-I mean, we've been trying for years now to steal that Pikachu. One Pokémon, Musa-chan. We can't do it, and we...we're not going to!"  
She doesn't like that. He can see the hissing anger forming in her eyes and winces involuntarily, waiting for the punch or the scratch or whatever abuse is coming. Then, unexpectedly, she stops and sighs, "You're right, Kojiro."  
"So," he says eagerly, spurred on by the fact that she's agreeing with him, "we need to run away."   
  
_ Take my hand  
We're leaving here tonight_   
  
"What?" she cries involuntarily, her cherry-red lips parting in an offset O. Quickly, she regains her composure. "I mean, what are you talking about, Kojiro?" she amends.  
He can do this now; he knows what he's saying. "Think about it, Musa-chan! We can't do this, and you know the Boss won't give us a new assignment until we complete this one. There's no way to get the Pikachu from that stupid boy--we've been trying everything we could think of for years."  
"You'd think eventually one of our plans would have to succeed. The statistical probability of our failing this many times is incredibly small," she muses to herself. He loves the way she makes everything sound so brilliant, and does it so effortlessly. It would have taken him forever to phrase it like that.  
"That's right!" he cries, seizing that. She's listening, she understands, she agrees! He races ahead. "If we stay, we'll just keep getting demoted again and again. Even worse apartments than this. Yamato and Kosaburo laughing even louder at us." He knows that'll make her pay attention; she hates that snake Yamato. "The only way out is...well...out!" Ooh, that was stupid, why did he say that? Oh, well. She understands it.  
She's looking thoughtful. "Run, hmm?" Then she shakes her head. Her long, glorious fiery-red hair swings behind her, shining in the dim light. "It'll never work, Kojiro. We'd never make it out the front door. You know what happens to people who try to leave the Rocket Dan..."  
"No one'll know. They'll just think we're going on a mission. We'll just leave, we'll leave and never come back! By morning, we could be in the city. They'd never find us there."   
  
_ There's no need to tell anyone  
They'd only hold us down  
So by the morning's light  
We'll be halfway to anywhere  
Where love is more than just your name_   
  
"The city..." She says it almost wistfully, one of those carmine fingertips grazing rosy lips as she thinks.  
"Or the country. It doesn't matter. We could go anywhere, Musa-chan. We could do anything. For the first time in our lives, we'd be free, really free!" He's been imagining one scenario in particular for months, the last thing he thinks of before he drifts off to sleep, the first thing that crosses his mind when he opens his eyes to the ceiling in the morning, the dream he clings to all night as he holds his pillow like it's her and dreams. He's blushing now, but the way she's looking at him makes him brave.  
"We could find a small house in the country somewhere," he begins shyly. His ears are turning red. "Just for us. No one would ever find us. No one would ever tell us what to do again. It'd be quiet and peaceful. Just us." He's repeating himself again, because he's thinking of his favorite part of the dream. In his mind, he and Musashi are standing outside the small wooden cottage they built with their own hands. She's leaning back in his arms, and they're watching the sunset together. Just them. Just a simple life where he could wake up next to her every morning and see that smile of hers every day. He's seventeen and in the throes of his first and only love; he knows that's the way he wants to spend the rest of his life.  
Does she dream of that too? he wonders.   
  
_ I have dreamt of a place for you and I  
No one knows who we are there  
All I want is to give my life only to you  
I've dreamt so long, I cannot dream anymore  
Let's run away, I'll take you there_   
  
Suddenly she looks worried, and he tenses up. Oh, no. No, she's found a flaw in the one perfect plan he's ever come up with. When she speaks, she seems uncertain, the first time he's ever heard a catch in her voice like she doesn't know what to do.  
"But...Kojiro. The Rocket Dan, the bike gang...what else do we know how to do? What else is there for us to do except steal? What other life..." She trails off.  
"Anything, Musashi," he says, and then repeats, "Anything." She looks uncertain, so he continues lamely-because he hasn't really thought that far- "I'll fish. We'll have a garden. We could just live off the land. Or...in the city, we could open our own fashion boutique! A salon! Whatever you want, whatever you've always dreamed of doing! We could dye our hair, get color contacts. No one would ever find us-"  
"When would we leave?" she interrupts him.  
He straightens himself up. Looks deep into her eyes, emeralds and sapphires colliding. "Today. Tonight. Now."  
This is it. This is the moment. He knows it. He's trembling, shaking with excitement as he looks at her. She's not. She's just sitting there. Her hand has slipped from the side of her face and is laying on the bed, clenching the covers. The knuckles are turning white. She looks like she's fighting with herself. He watches her and waits, and as he stands there, he realizes he's praying.   
  
_ We're leaving here tonight  
There's no need to tell anyone  
They'd only hold us down  
So by the morning's light  
We'll be halfway to anywhere  
Where no one needs a reason_   
  
Finally, after what seems like an eternity in that still, dusty room, she stands. Gone is the hesitation that was in her voice, and he knows as soon as the first syllable hits the air that she's made her decision.  
"All right," she says. "I'll go with you. I'll need a few minutes to change and get a few things, and then we'll leave."  
"All right," he agrees as she disappears into the bathroom. The apartment is laid out exactly like his, with two rooms: a bedroom and a bathroom. The only closet is in the bathroom, and he reasons that must be where she keeps her clothes now that she no longer has her big fancy walk-in. The only other things in the bathroom are a sink, a toilet, a shower, and-mysteriously-the phone outlet; the only furnishings consist of the bed and a cheap straw chair.  
Well, we'll never have to deal with a dump like *this* again, he thinks with satisfaction, fingering the money in his pocket. He's saved everything he could from every paycheck-few, meager and far between though they were-in the last two years for this night. It's not much, but he knows it will be enough to get them started while he finds work. Musashi too, if she wants, but he has already decided he'll work hard enough so she won't have to. A person like his Musashi should never have to work if she doesn't want to.  
He'd nodding with more satisfaction about this, and he almost doesn't think about the fact that Musashi is taking a very long time in the bathroom. When he does think about it, he dismisses it quickly. She always takes a long time in the bathroom; she's probably just getting her hairspray together.   
  
_ Forget this life  
Come with me  
Don't look back, you're safe now  
Unlock your heart  
Drop your guard  
No one's left to stop you_   
  
A few minutes later, she emerges from the bathroom. She's still wearing her uniform. She isn't carrying a bag. Somehow, he knows this isn't what was supposed to happen, and it confuses him.  
"Musa-chan?" he asks tentatively. "Are you ready to go?"  
"I'm sorry, Koijro," she says, shaking her head slowly. "But you aren't going anywhere."  
"Whaa-?" he begins, and that's the moment when the guards burst through the door of the apartment.  
They're on him before he can move. Instantly, he's put into a headlock and his hands are cuffed behind his back. There's no time to struggle, although later he will doubt that he could have even if there had been. He's staring at her, with his mouth open.  
"I'm sorry, Kojiro," she repeats smoothly, walking up to him and bending over so her face is level to the position where his is being held. "But you know what happens to people who try to leave the Rocket Dan. With the promotion exposing you as a traitor will get me, I'll be right back on top in no time."  
"M-musa-chan..." he whispers. He's still having trouble comprehending this. Something makes him want to cry, and he realizes with a jolt that it's not out of fear for what's about to happen to him. He no longer cares what happens to him. The tears that are starting to spill down his face are for her. He knows this is the last time he'll ever see her.   
  
_ We're leaving here tonight  
There's no need to tell anyone  
They'd only hold us down  
So by the morning's light  
We'll be halfway to anywhere  
Where no one needs a reason_   
  
"Musa-chan." He's whimpering now, and he knows it. His voice rises into a frenzied scream as the guards begin to drag him toward the door. He's flailing, for all the good in the world this useless waste of energy does him. "Musa-chan! I love you! Do you hear me?! I love you, and I always have!"  
Something changes in her face. Her eyes widen, those beautiful rose-colored lips part and fall open. "Kojiro," she whispers, the word leaving her mouth in something like a gasp.  
The last thing he notices as the door slams behind him is her eyes, a startlingly brilliant blue against her now-pale skin. She has such beautiful eyes. 


End file.
